Red
by StormyInk
Summary: Levi reflects on losing Petra and how Mikasa has healed him. RivaMika Week prompts/drabbles.
1. Damaged

_Warnings...Levi's squad deaths will be all over this & tiny bits of LevixPetra. Oh, and, ah, smut. I have only a twinge of guilt. _

* * *

Levi woke reluctantly.

It was late in the morning if the strength of sunlight crisscrossing across his body and bed was anything to go by. He shifted his back to face the window, tried not to think of the significance of this day.

How many years had it been since he'd lost them?

Since he'd lost Petra?

And still the anniversary of their deaths tore at him mercilessly.

The anniversary of _her_ death.

He felt his pulse quicken, his breaths grow jagged as the familiar, sharp ache reappeared in his throat and heart. He never really understood why it still affected him so strongly, or why it was always this day that was the worst. He'd gotten through every other day with his usual grit, hundreds of days without them. But this day…it felt as if he'd aged many years, as if the grief had wrapped tightly about his bones, constricted his lungs—it made getting out of bed impossible.

He could still remember them all vividly, the way they bickered with one another one moment then nearly died the next trying to protect each other.

He could still remember the tinkle of Petra's laughter, the nervous way she'd fiddled with her fingers whenever they were alone, the way her eyes had glittered hopefully.

And he could remember the awkwardly bent angle of her body against the tree, the unnatural stillness of death, the dullness and hollowness of her once bright gaze.

The blood streaked across the young girls face.

He'd felt achingly hollow and twisted for months after, his heart and soul irreparably damaged and brutally clawed. But he'd survived—he always did, didn't he? It was always him that was forced to live while everyone about him was violently taken from him.

Why had he kept living?

He turned onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes, swallowing thickly.

He felt Mikasa shift beside him on the bed, stirring sleepily. She curled up against him, wrapping her slim arms about his bare torso, her silky black hair tickling his chest as she used him as a pillow.

"Morning." She murmured, her lips pressing softly against hard lines of his abdomen.

He touched her hair gently, tangling his fingers in the soft inky strands. "Morning." His voice was low and rough, and he shuddered when she pressed a string of kisses up his stomach and chest.

She paused when she reached the middle of his chest, looking up at him through the dark curtain of her lashes, her inscrutable gaze examining him with her usual eerie sereneness. She seemed to know why this morning was a difficult one for him—everyone did—but she said nothing, asked nothing, only moved over him.

Her soft thighs gripped his waist tightly, the flimsy night shirt she wore slinking off her pale shoulder prettily. The sunlight struck her skin not harshly but lovingly, displaying the rosy flush of her sleep swollen skin temptingly, displaying the softness of it, making his fingertips itch to touch her. They'd stayed together longer than usual. She usually left before anyone woke, before anyone could see she'd spent the night in his bed.

She spoke quietly. "We need to leave."

He inhaled deeply, looking up at her grimly.

Today was the anniversary of his last squad's death, yes.

But that was not the only reason he was dreading today.

At his silence she shifted away—but he gripped her thighs reflexively, reluctant to let her off of him. Their mission today would be a dangerous one, and their chances of survival were slim.

He'd seen enough of the cruel irony of life to know that it wouldn't be at all surprising if they took Mikasa from him the same day they'd taken Petra.

He wasn't sure if he'd be able to survive it this time.

And he needed to feel her.

Shakily, he reached up, fumbling with the buttons of her night shirt. "We have time." He lied gruffly, and she let him pull away her shirt, shutting her eyes as he pinned her bare body beneath his.

How lonely had he been until Mikasa had crept into his soul? He'd fought it viciously, tried to deny what he'd felt, had even tried to convince her to be with Eren but it hadn't worked, had only grown and festered within him, guilt wracking him. Everything had fallen apart and he'd broke, taking her innocence with all the fierceness and desperation of his loneliness, with reluctance and with relish, taming his roughness into gentleness, asking her to let him have her, savagely pleased when she'd acquiesced.

_It'll only be just this once, _he'd told himself once he'd sated them both, leaning on her heavily.

But once had turned into the rest of that night, and the next, and into weeks and months and...

Now the color of her red scarf was all it took to make him remember how it felt to have her beneath him. Now the scent of her had sunk into his sheets, into his clothing, his skin. Now her breath had filled his lungs.

Now she belonged to him.

And he'd been enslaved by her completely.

He buried his face into her throat as he pushed into her body, hooking one arm beneath her back, his hand gripping her shoulder and anchoring her in place beneath him. He slid his other hand down her side soothingly when she stiffened beneath him, holding her thigh spread as he buried himself as deeply as he could. He knew he should have taken a bit more time to prepare her body for his, knew that her small gasp was due more to discomfort then pleasure and he tried to regain his usual control.

But this morning was different.

"We shouldn't…we don't have time." Yet she arched beneath him sweetly, openly, tangling her pale fingers into his hair and holding him to her tightly.

"Hush," He murmured, moving into her in a slow, easy rhythm. "Just relax." He kissed the corner of her mouth, her bottom lip, her fluttering lashes, silently apologizing for his roughness. "I'll be quick."

She let her head drop back obligingly, a quiet sound of pleasure vibrating deep in her throat when he angled his thrusts to rub against her roughly, her soft breaths quickening.

Her eyes were shut and he drank in her pleasured expression not with his usual arrogance but with a raw hunger, needed her vulnerable for him, wanted not an inch of space between them.

He wanted to fill her until all she could think, feel and breathe was him.

Because it was what she'd done to him.

Her fingers clutched the sheets beneath her fitfully as he built her pleasure, and he clenched his jaw and bit back his own. _Almost, _he thought, his heart pounding in his throat as he quickened and deepened his thrusts, her body fully parted for him, the wet heat making him stifle his groan against her throat.

He felt her body begin to tighten around him, her thighs gripping his hard waist, her soft moans urging him on. The pleasure broke through her body suddenly and she arched beneath him, her pale fingers clutching at his hair tightly. He muffled the broken sounds she made with his mouth, hearing them, _breathing _them, and he rode her through her orgasm fiercely, driving her up brutally until she bit his bottom lip in frustration.

Her nails scraped the sweat slickened muscles of his back, her name catching in his throat as he came. He shook as he curled over her, holding her still for him, burying his face into her neck, clutching her hand and entwining their fingers as he spilled himself within her.

It should have been enough, Levi thought bitterly; giving them both pleasure should have soothed his restlessness as it almost always did—but it wasn't, and as the pleasure faded he only held her to him more tightly, felt himself shake for an altogether different reason.

"Stay." He bit out, the words tearing out of his throat unwillingly. "You'll stay here. I should be enough to get through the mission successfully."

She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly. "No."

He lifted his dark head, clenching his jaw as a sudden fury gripped him. "I can force you to stay here." He gripped her wrists in his hands, pinning them on either side of her head. "You're my subordinate. I can order you to stay."

She simply watched him quietly for several moments, her gaze dark and knowing. "I am not Petra."

He reeled back slightly, releasing her as if she had burned him. He pulled away from her body—gently—and sat at the edge of the bed, his bare feet touching the cold hard floor. He raked his hair back with a shaky hand.

"Don't be an idiot." Is that what she thought? That she was some kind of replacement for her? "I've never confused you for her."

Mikasa never spoke much, but when she did she was almost always composed and toneless—but now there was the slightest strain in her voice, and if Levi had been a less intelligent man he would have never understood what it meant. "I'm nothing like her." He had his back turned to her, but he felt her rise from the bed, nearly completely silent as she dressed. "Perhaps that's the problem." She murmured softly and before he could answer her he heard the door click shut as she left his bedroom.

Yes, he thought tiredly, pressing his fingers to the backs of his eyelids. It was most definitely what Mikasa thought.

And he didn't know how to go about explaining to her that she wasn't her replacement. That she was an altogether a different woman, a woman who'd somehow kept his head above the black waters that had nearly swallowed him whole; a woman who'd enthralled him with her silence, with her raw power and dark, soul-stealing eyes—but mostly, she'd enthralled him with her depth, with her damaged heart, with her innocence.

And she infuriated him with her stupid, idiotic complete lack of self-preservation, the way she so readily placed her life under the blade for the sake of Eren, Armin and whoever bloody else needed her.

And he didn't think he could keep his composure together if she did it again on this mission.

He didn't think he could hold himself together if he lost her.

And he'd be damned if he let her keep thinking that this whole time he'd been using her as some kind of balm for his wounds, as something temporary, as a distraction.

But had he ever given her reason not to think of herself as such?

He eyed the mussed sheets behind him grimly, his bed looking pitifully empty without her in it.

No, he admitted bitterly, he'd never given her a reason to think she'd meant more.

She needed to know she did.

* * *

**A/N-This is short, yeah, and probably nicely mangled and nonsensical. It's almost 1am actually and I have work in a few hours...I'm putting up the excuses for all the mistakes you all have found, most likely. I'm sorry. My mistakes, as always, have no damn excuse and I deserve any flames. **

**Also, I'm sorry for not updating Subtle Unraveling. **

**I'm kind of...stuck on it? It's just not quite flowing and I have no idea why... so this is my attempt at breaking the block. **

**And, well, participating in RivaMika week, however faulty my work is. **

**I'll post the next one tomorrow, I promise. **

**You're lovely. **


	2. Burden

_A tiny warning...there's a small dash of eremin here. _

* * *

After showering and dressing, Levi prowled about in search of Mikasa.

He rounded the corner—and stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Eren and Armin huddled together beneath a cluster of trees. Armin had the front of Eren's jacket gripped tightly, worriedly, his blonde head bent beseechingly. Eren smiled gently, touching Armin's hair intimately, murmuring something indistinguishable.

They leaned towards one another, their mouths only inches apart—and Levi was irritated enough to interrupt them.

"Oi, brats."

Eren jerked back, spinning on his heel—and accidentally smacking Armin's face with his shoulder. Armin stumbled back and Eren grabbed a hold of him quickly, apologizing profusely.

"Ah, Heichou, we're ready. We were just discussing the best way to go about—"

"I know what you were _discussing_, but I'm not interested in hearing it." He scanned their surroundings with narrowed eyes. "Where's Mikasa?"

Eren blinked rapidly. "Ah, I saw her eating with Sasha, Connie and Jean, Heichou."

Levi scowled. "Continue with your _discussion _but be aware that we're about to leave."

Eren nodded instantly, a vivid blush on his cheeks as Armin gripped his hand. "Yes, Heichou."

It took him much longer to find her than usual, and by the time he spotted her his mood was as black as death.

She was sitting at the table, straddling the bench and facing Sasha. Sasha's eyes were closed in pleasure as Mikasa fed her a torn half of bread, Mikasa watching her with an almost dark fascination.

Jean and Connie watched the two girls with a little too much interest to be innocent.

He walked over to them grimly. "Mikasa."

Jean and Connie stiffened in surprise. "H-heichou."

Levi nodded at them curtly, his gaze on Mikasa. "I need to speak with you."

She kept feeding Sasha. "We aren't done eating, Heichou."

He pressed his lips together in displeasure. "Mikasa," He bit out, dangerously soft, his last warning. "Come."

She ignored him, pushing the bread against Sasha's mouth insistently. "In a while."

He snapped. "You can feed your pet when we get back." He grabbed the back of her jacket and yanked her up. He ripped the bread out of her hands and shoved it into Connie's hands. "You feed her."

Connie looked at Sasha a little blankly.

Sasha grinned at him dreamily.

"Yes, Heichou." Connie scooted forward.

He pulled Mikasa into an empty room none too gently—when she suddenly ripped her hand out of his grip. She walked across the room and placed her hands on the window sill, her fingertips clenched white about the dark wood. Her shoulders were hunched, her voice tight. "We weren't done eating, Heichou."

"I already told you, you can feed your pet when you—"

"Sasha is my comrade." She interrupted, facing him, her quiet fury momentarily surprising him. "Not my pet—and neither am I yours to be pulling around against my will, Heichou."

He grasped her elbows. "Levi," He bit out, sitting her in a chair roughly. "I've made you say my name enough times for you to have it branded on your tongue and you will call me by it now or I will not let you have a moments rest in our bed until you surrender to me." He flatted his hands on the arms of the chair, effectively caging her in, his face inches from hers. "Now look at me, Mikasa."

When she refused he cupped her jaw, lifting her face. Her scarlet scarf came into view with the motion, the softness of it brushing against his knuckles. It made him pause. The sight of it always did—it always reminded him of their first time. He recalled gathering her in his arms and asking her to let him have her. At her acceptance it had been the first piece of clothing he'd tugged away from her body. He could remember the softness of it in his hard grasp, slipping it away from her pale neck, exposing her throat for his perusing gaze and mouth. Whenever he'd taken her to bed it was always the first thing to go. It had almost been a test to see if she'd let him take that from her and she always had. He clutched at the scarf now, gripping the ruby red softness tightly as he struggled with his words. "You aren't Petra." He pulled it away from her throat, saw the thrashing of her pulse, clenched his jaw. "I've never wanted—"

The door swung open and Levi cursed beneath his breath viciously.

Hanji grinned a little, eyeing them speculatively. "We're leaving, Levi, Mikasa. You two can continue when we get back. Come on."

Levi shut his eyes and inhaled deeply.

He needed to calm himself.

He pulled away, dropping her scarf in her lap. He looked at Mikasa darkly. "We'll continue this when we get back."

_If they did._

* * *

_Shit. _

He gripped the handles tightly, his blood making them slippery as he spun, his blades biting into the nape of a titan neatly.

"Armin!"

Levi landed high up on a branch and looked down at the sound of Mikasa's cry of alarm. Armin was unconscious on the ground with Mikasa fluttering over him, trying to stem the flowing blood from his head wound—and a titan was running towards them rapidly. There was a smaller one trailing in its shadow however, a six meter titan, and he knew from their angle they wouldn't see it until it was too late.

Levi moved—but Mikasa was closer, angrier, and she cut the large titan down quickly, easily. She landed on the ground with her usual, cat-like grace, running back towards Armin.

And she didn't see the smaller titan lunging at her.

"Mikasa!" Levi shouted, shooting forward as rapidly as he could as the smaller titan swung its grubby hand towards her. She turned around a second too late, its fingers curling around her—Levi used his momentum and struck Mikasa hard, sending her rolling across the field and out of harm's way, her back striking a tree trunk harshly.

The titan grappled at Levi's thigh, and he cursed as it began to tighten brutally—he rammed his blade down, neatly cutting the titans thumb off and slicing his thigh open in the process. The titan dropped him and Levi's breath ripped out of his lungs as he hit the ground.

The titan eyes widened maniacally as he reached for him again—but Mikasa flew over them, nimbly slicing at its nape.

He rolled away as it fell forward, gritting against the pain in his cut thigh.

"Levi!" Mikasa stood over him, lifting him to his feet. "You're bleeding." She cut off a large shred of her cloak, haphazardly tying the cloth over the gushing wound on his thigh. She looked calm, he thought, but her hands shook and fumbled as she tried to knot the soaked, grimy cloth.

He leaned his back against the trunk of a tree, tried to ignore the dizzy swaying of his head. "Go check on Armin."

She pressed her lips together grimly.

"This is just a scratch. His head is bleeding. Go get him—it's an order."

She gave him an inscrutable look before nodding and walking away. She lifted Armin easily and walked back over to him, tying another shred of her cloak around Armin's head. Levi adjusted the cloth about his thigh and gathered his composure for a few moments, watching her darkly.

The split second he'd seen the titans hand reaching for Mikasa had made his mind go blank with rage and terror—he hadn't thought clearly, hadn't kept a level head and now instead of helping out the situation he'd worsened it. Now Mikasa had to deal with both of them being injured instead of just Armin.

But he knew that there wasn't a bone in her body that wasn't protective, knew she'd die protecting them both. And he didn't want her to die trying to carry that burden.

"Mikasa…" He murmured, catching her gaze. He could feel the hard vibrations wracking the ground beneath their feet, indicating oncoming titans. "Take Armin." He pushed away from the tree. "I'll hold them off for as long as I can."

She looked up in surprise for just a moment—but then she gathered her composure, her gaze darkening. She looked away, still kneeling, her hands gentle as she pushed a bloody lock of hair away from Armin's forehead. "No."

He grasped the front of her jacket. "Get up and leave. That was not a request."

"It's my fault you're hurt." She wrapped her fingers around his wrist tightly as she spoke quietly, stiffly. "This isn't the only time you've gotten hurt for my sake. I have been enough of a burden to you. I will take responsibility for my actions. You can carry Armin and run but you cannot fight in your state. I am at my full strength and I am far from my limits. I will stay."

He felt his vision go red. He felt like strangling her. "Do you think I can lose you here?" He clenched his hand into the back of her hair viciously, angling her face up for him. "Do you think I'm so heartless I can go through this again?"

She looked up at him for a few quiet moments, an odd, horrible dullness seeping into her gaze. Her words were hollow. "I am not Petra."

He felt something precious within him crack. "I've never confused you for her." This was the worst time to tell her this but he wasn't so sure he'd be able to get out of this alive, needed her to know what she'd meant to him, how she'd redeemed him when he'd been wretched and forsaken. "I've only ever seen you, Mikasa. I've only wanted you for what you were. You're a bloody moron if you've ever thought otherwise. I wanted you and then I grew to need you and I kept telling myself I'd let you go because you deserve better than what I can offer you but…" He looked away, shutting his eyes as his breath shuddered out of him. "But I was selfish." He pressed his forehead against hers gently. "I wanted you to belong to me for as long as I could have you. For as long as you'd let me. I couldn't let you go. I want you still."

She reached up slowly, almost unsurely, bringing his mouth down on hers.

"Mikasa!"

Sasha, Connie and Jean swung in overhead, landing beside them lightly. Mikasa got to her feet, lifting Armin.

Jean ran towards them first. "Are you guys okay? We need to move—there's a stampede of titans heading this way. Eren and Hanji are ahead of us with the rest of the group."

Mikasa handed Armin over to Connie. "Carry him. Sasha, Jean, cover him." She faced Levi. "Help them get to Hanji and Erwin. I'll stay here for a while and cut down as many as I can. I'll catch up to you after I'm sure you've made it out of the forest."

The pain bit into his leg as he lunged forward and grabbed her jacket, shaking her. "As usual defying orders, aren't you? What part of I can't lose you here don't you understand, Mikasa?" He shoved her hard enough to make her fall backwards—and Jean caught her.

Jean helped Mikasa to her feet—and she gave Levi the blackest glare he'd ever seen.

"I'm not going, Mikasa. You can try to force me but you know you can't win me. I've lived long enough—you brats just started. I don't want to carry any more bodies on my back."

"Heichou…" She walked towards him slowly and there was something in her gaze, in the way she moved that made him pause. "Levi." She murmured beneath her breath, like she had whenever he'd kissed her breathless. "I'm sorry." It sounded like surrender.

He shut his eyes as she pressed herself against him. If he was going to die a vicious death, he could have a moment of bliss, couldn't he?

Her pale hands slid up his chest—and her mouth brushed over his, softly, tenderly. "Forgive me." She whispered.

He felt a hard crack splinter across the back of his skull, a flash of red slashing across his vision—and then he saw nothing.

* * *

Mikasa eyed the blades in her hands dully as she stood in the middle of the woods, Levi's words still ringing through her skull.

_I don't want to carry any more bodies on my back._

The titans were almost here now.

She'd knocked him unconscious of course, had helped tie him to Jean. They hadn't wanted to leave her but she'd assured them she'd only toy with them then bolt as soon as she could.

But she knew better.

Armin was injured. So was Levi. There were most likely many others that were injured. They needed time. And it was her fault _again _that their strongest soldier was wounded. This was her responsibility. This was the burden she and Levi bore as the strongest soldiers and now that Levi had been hurt for her sake the responsibility fell onto her shoulders.

And she was strong enough to carry it through.

He'd shown her that.

She hadn't wanted to strike him. Everything in her had been repulsed by the idea. How gentle had he always been with her body? How tenderly had he touched her, looked at her in those brief hours enclosed in his bedroom?

But he'd been determined to protect them. And she'd refused to be a burden anymore, both emotionally and physically. Why had she said that to him earlier? It hadn't been her place. She'd known what they'd had going on between them was only physical. It was only temporary. So why had she _said _it? Had she wanted to make him feel guilty? He must have seen the flash of pain that had cut through her, must have heard the shake of her voice.

He must have understood that she'd become emotionally involved with him.

And she knew she'd ruined what they'd had instantly.

Even if they'd both survived and gotten back…he'd pull away from her. She knew that instinctively. And she had no one to blame but her own selfish needs and words.

How could she have misconstrued his sexual affection for an emotional one? But it was like her, she thought humorously and bitterly. She'd once thought Eren had loved her—romantically. She'd fallen for him and then she'd seen him with Armin and it had felt like ice in her blood.

Of course. _Of course. _It made sense.

She'd been a fool.

And then Levi had wrecked into her life with his nonchalance, his aloofness, his flaws and vulnerable bitterness. She'd found more and more in common with him as the hot days had passed into cold ones, had found that his iciness hid a fierce passion, that his caress could bring out her own.

His touches had become more frequent, his cutting looks into smirks, then tender, knowing glances. He often asked her to train with him, their kicks and chokeholds turning into lingering fingertips, a soft brush of lips over exposed skin, voices deepening and pulses fluttering.

She didn't regret giving herself to him. She smiled at the memory, allowing herself to recall it freely now. He'd shaken more than she had—she felt the force of his restraint like it was tangible, been both grateful and bewildered by how hard he'd tried to be gentle. How long he'd taken discovering her body, his long elegant fingers and soft mouth strumming her body effortlessly, his eyes carefully watching every nuance of pleasure that had flickered over her features.

Perhaps he had never loved her.

But he had made love _to _her.

And perhaps she'd never been loved the way she'd wanted to be. Perhaps she'd never have anyone love her the way she loved them.

But Levi hadn't used her as Petra's replacement—his eyes had said that much—and he had been willing to put his life before hers. She knew of course he did this as the leader of their squad and not as a lover but perhaps she'd maybe meant a little more to him. Perhaps she could allow herself a bit of fantasy in these last few moments.

The titans finally came into view, spotting her and lunging towards her hungrily. She inhaled deeply and gripped her blades tightly, thankful she'd wrapped her red scarf around Levi's neck.

Though it was scarlet, she didn't like the thought of staining it with anymore blood.

She opened her eyes and swung her body up as her blades cleaved down.

* * *

**A/N-I actually updated on time. Everyone clap for Stormy. **

**I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense. If you didn't review on the first one you may want to stop reading here because I'll bore you to death. **

******Since I didn't get that many reviews I feel like I can maybe address all of you that did actually review. This is going to be long. **

**To all of you that told me it was okay to take my time with Subtle Unraveling (Ami90, Noey, the guest reviewer, featherelly) you're unbelievably sweet. I actually felt a knot of pressure in my stomach. Maybe that's my problem. You guys made me feel so much better. _Thank you. _I've kind of hammered out 9 pages so far but I need to just wrap it up then go through it and fix all my mistakes. I feel so happy you guys aren't irritated with me because _I'm _irritated with myself. **

**Rivaille-I am continuing it. I hope you like where I took it? I was a little unsure but decided to let my fingertips do the story telling. **

**Shadows55-Did you just call my writing beautiful? Because I might have just fell in love with you a little. **

**Black Tofu-_Thank you, thank you._ Did I satisfy thy need? Feel free to tell me if I didn't. I'll whip myself into shape. **

**FairHeartStrife-I do not think my writing has ever been described as _painfully _beautiful but I absolutely adore that compliment. 'Intricate' & 'layered' & 'human complexity' all of these things made me smile like a fool. Are you a writer yourself? I get that feeling from the way you wrote. **

**Queen-of-heroes-Those are happy tears, I hope? I kid. You're lovely. You made me laugh. **

**Warum-Thank you for complimenting my writing style. I rather thought I didn't even have one. I'm so...capricious that I think I lack a strong writing voice completely. I hope you enjoyed the update however rushed it was. **

**You guys are adorable. **


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